


Yearning

by Clara_Parlato



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Black Shuck, Langst, Monster mash, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 06:40:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16341746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clara_Parlato/pseuds/Clara_Parlato
Summary: Omen of death, what does it mean to yearn for it?





	Yearning

When asked about his oldest memories, Lance would usually say something like “my mama’s bright smile” or “my papa’s loud laugh”. Then whoever asked would coo and the subject would change.

He was used to it, having been doing it since he learned saying “my oldest memory is of glowing red eyes” wasn’t well seen by other people, all the way back at the age of six.

Nevertheless, it was the truth; his oldest memories were filled with glowing red eyes, sharp teeth and moving darkness. Howling was also present, constant and, dare he say, comforting.

Back then, he didn’t understand. To him, all four legged creatures that didn’t meow or didn’t had the horsehair were dogs. He wasn’t even wrong to begin with; the creature that followed him whenever he went  _was_  a dog.

Just not a good one.

Or a living one.

At first, Lance called it his Guardian Angel, for it constantly protected and helped him. His toddler legs were wobbly; it helped him stand. His neighbors’ kids were mean ones; it scared them off. He got lost at the beach; it showed him the way back to his family. To repay his Guardian Angel, Lance made sure to be careful so it wouldn’t worry too much, made sure to always give it a good scratch behind the ears and lovingly named it “Señor Nicolás”, “Nini” for short.

It wasn’t until her was twelve that he finally understood Señor Nicolás was not a Guardian Angel. He was the farthest from it, actually. A black hound, a spectral existence, an omen of death.

The muggers didn’t have a chance against the big black dog—Nini was almost the size of a small horse. With claws and teeth, the hound tore them apart. Lance would never forget the view of that giant beast biting in one of the man’s throat and ripping out a good chunk of flesh, blood and droll coming out in between white pointy teeth. Blood, red, fresh, painting whatever it touched.

When he got back home that day, he told mama he got lost while daydreaming, that’s why he was late. She scolded him for being an airhead and worrying her. Abuelita stared at him knowingly, her old eyes moving to glance at the spectrum guarding him.

Omen of death.

_(Don’t some cultures believe only people near death can see them?)_

Life goes on, and so Lance lived with the spectrum following him. Even after that fateful day, he could not bring himself to feel anything but a great appreciation for Nini. Maybe he  _was_  a bit blinded by the hound’s protective nature and quite nice personality towards him, but he didn’t care. At the Garrison, he had to keep an eye on Nini, though, for the hound would attack anyone that so much inconvenienced the boy.

Luckily for Iverson, Lance learned that Nini wouldn’t attack if he asked.

When he found Blue, Señor Nicolás had sat down at the entrance of the cave, watching with blazing red eyes. Lance was tempted to return to the hound and ask what was wrong, but there were other people with him and they would not understand. They could not see.

When he went to space, he was sad to see that Señor Nicolás wasn’t with him anymore. Every night he asked the hound for forgiveness for going where Nini could not follow. Every rough patch was met with thoughts of home, of family, and red eyes. Every part of him yearned for Nini.

_(Omen of death, what does it mean to yearn for it?)_

All Lance remembers after saving Allura from certain death is burning red eyes, white teeth and moving darkness. Then Red’s purr took place of the familiar howling and he was back in the land of the living.

Kosmo, Keith’s space wolf, reminded Lance of Nini. He too seemed to regard the paladin with a solemn knowledge of what would inevitably be. Maybe Kosmo was his planet’s equivalent of a black shuck.

_(Which meant Keith was happily cuddling a possible omen of death. Talk about welcoming Death with open arms.)_

_(Not that Lance could talk much.)_

Then they finally returned to Earth, and sitting there, patiently waiting, was Señor Nicolás. The moment Lance was alone he hugged the hound tightly, telling Nini all his adventures and thoughts and anything and everything.

_(Kind of sad to know an omen of death was a better listener than his own friends.)_

Señor Nicolás didn’t leave his side for a second after his return, no matter where he had to go. Kosmo seemed reluctant in leaving his side, too, even though the glares the black shuck sent him made his fur stand up. Lance could be found with the space wolf, talking about this and that.

_(For the ones that could see, he could be found talking about this and that with **two**  canines.)_

Life seemed to go on as always, the Paladins of Voltron doing everything in their power, and then some more, to end the war and bring peace to the turbulent universe. Lance was able to see his team accomplish the first. The latter, though, would be harder, for he couldn’t see past Keith’s horrendous mullet and teary eyes.

Someone was cradling him in their arms—probably Keith, he had some type of fixation with that—and there was an insistent voice pleading him to stay awake. He did, sitting up to see that,  _yes_ , it was Keith who was holding him. Getting up, the boy analyzed the kneeling form of the other. It was the first time Lance saw Keith cry.

He felt something stand behind him. Señor Nicolás clearly wanted him to follow.

Lance did, leaving his body in the arms of his crying teammates.

* * *

Lance.

The team named the giant hound that started following them around “Lance”.

He had the same bluest blue eyes.

Omen of death.

They yearned for his company.


End file.
